Letter from Kezia Payne DePelchin at Memphis to her sister, Sallie Payne, September 17 & 23, 1878Funding for the creation of this digitized text is provided by a grant from the Institute of Museum and Library Services.DePelchin, Kezia P. (Payne), 1828-1893Creation of digital images:Center for Digital Scholarship, Rice UniversityCreation of transcription:Amanda York Focke, Asst. Head of Special Collections, Woodson Research CenterConversion to TEI-conformant markup:Amanda York Focke, Asst. Head of Special Collections, Woodson Research CenterParsing and proofing:Fondren Library, Rice UniversitySubject analysis and assignment of taxonomy terms:Melissa TorresRice UniversityHouston, Texas2010-06-07aa00184_05

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Images exist as archived TIFF files, JPEG versions for general use, and thumbnail GIFs.Letter from Kezia Payne DePelchin at Memphis to her sister, Sallie Payne, September 17 & 23, 1878DePelchin, Kezia P. (Payne), 1828-1893September 17 & 23, 1878Kezia Payne DePelchin letters, MS 201, Box 1, letter 5, p. 36-49, Woodson Research Center, Fondren Library, Rice UniversityThis collection was given as a permanent loan from Charles McBrayer of the DePelchin Faith Home in 1973.14 handwritten pages, writing from a tenement house, nursing a sick woman until death and caring for the dead woman's child, Arthur.

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I must write just as I have a few minutes. Time isnow eleven at night.
Place. third story of a tenement house.—I last wrote to you just
as I left the Church home: on Saturdaylast, I was brought here, that
day.—My patient, MrsCalhoonabout 22 years of age: She and her husband
were both takensick. on Friday morning before daylight. he was
sentto the hospital. and his wife and child. remained here.A friend
of hers is with her. who having lost her husbandten days ago. is feeling
very dejected. but is very kindand is the first person I have seen.
nursing, who didnot belong to some society . and receive pay as
nurse.—The first thing I needed. was a bucket of fresh
water.and found the water had to be brought up fromthe yard below,
up three flights of stairs, andof course, slop water taken down the same
dis-tance. This would take too much time from mypatient; therefore I
hired a colored girl who rejoicesin the classic name of
Tullia, to do that workfor me.—She is
reasonable and faithful;

There were abundance of quilts. but the Doctor told meto put a blanket over
her. the sick woman begged me to gether a blanket. none at the Howards. no Stores open. I went tomy hotel.
and bought the one of my bed; by 12 midnightMrs C. got
worse. suffered intense pain. in herbowels; had watery discharges, I
rumaged in an oldcloset, found a bottle of laudanaumlaudanam . gave afew drops in an enimaenema of Starch. I had to repeatthe dose: I applied a poultice of
mush. and warmflannel to her feet. she was relieved, and fell
asleep.when she woke, her headache was gone, butthe red on her cheek
was changed to a bright orange. TheDoctor came. and prescribed exactly
what I haddone.—only onion poultice instead of mush. If we
couldget onions: I found a grocery open. that had
some.—She grew restless. but was rational soon came the
black vomit, in that she read her death was—rant; “Now I
must die” was her exclamation. I triedto cheer. her. so did her friend, as
soon as I couldleave her I went in haste for the Doctor. foundhim.
quite near. he promised to come
immediate- ly
. Strange to say he never came; When I returned shesaid I've
given my child the last kiss I shall evergive him: she slept a little.
then roused. gave mea message for her mother. and her husband. She
lookedeagerly for the Doctor. The visitor came. he wentand brought a
Doctor but it was too late. Shethrew up quantities of black vomit. Once
she seizedmy hand. and kissing it. thanked me for wait-ing on her.
as death drew near. I sent Tullia tothe Howard Office for help.,.as sometimes. the dying
gotso very unmanageable.-It was.now nearly dark. and asevening came
on. Little Arthur would creep to the door. andevery
time he heard a footstep. utter a little glad cry. thenas only some
stranger appeared. or the footstep passed on hewould cry so pitifully; he
was watching for his father.will his father ever come.? who can tell:

This family occupied two upper rooms. therefore. I got MrsPhips to take the child into the other
room. as soon as thewoman came who was to stay with me; All we
coulddo now, was to give her water. and watch beside
her.—She died. that night: A short time before death, she suddenly roused. said I've
been praying. God has forgiven oneall my sins; these were the last.
rational words. she spoke.When she was dead. I went to a basket of clothes
brought fromthe wash that day. selected. a suit. and with the help of the
woman. with one. we laid her out: I opened all the windowsI sent to
the Howard Office. by daylight. dismissed the
othernurse; Today I have been to try and find out if MrCalhoon is better. cannot hear anything. It is now
customaryfor a policeman to go round at 5 P.M. and ask if there are
anydead in the houses. because several have gone and diedalone; I
thought of sending to the police Station. I did so.All day we have done
what we could to amuse Arthur.—only we feel
so sad ourselves. it is an effort. It is teno'clock. a heavy rumbling
sound. the wagon stops.and a man's voice calls. Is this the place where
thereis a corpse? 'Yes' I hold a light. and three coloredmen come up
with a rough coffin. Is it a manor a woman. they asked. as they proceeded
to takeup the body in the sheet. “A woman” I repliedlay her in
gently. She's dressed. I laid a while coverletin the coffin. it was
closed. I had to give them camphor. and use it myself the smell was fearful; I againheld the
light. It was with difficulty they got down the narrowstairway: The men
were quiet, and respectful. but we were allstrangers to her, and to each
other, how strange. how solemn wasthis lonely funeral. The moon is shining
brightly down uponthe stricken City, where so many such scenes are being
enacted.Others are laid away with no loved one to mark. their
graves.—but God knows. Christ who redeemed them. will
findthem at the last day; Now the question is. what shall wedo with
the child.? The friend I found here. may take thefever. she is good and
kind hearted; but feeble. and I think.poor; even if the father lives. he
will be weak. forsome time. the Orphan asylums are crowded. and
manyare sick in them: I must board him somewhere. but mymoney will
not last long at that rate. I cannot senda letter to
Houston. much more across the Ocean to you:I see no
way left. but to draw money on my ticket asnurse: This hurts my pride. but
if I use it only for theneedy. at least I am blameless. before
God;The visitor has called as usual. this time to see if thebody was
removed; I believe some of these Howards
neverrest, day or night. and this one Capt. W. S.
Anderson isone of the hardest workers.—The poorer.
the more forlorn.

a person is. the more he strives. to ameliorate their condition.and provide
them with comforts in their distress: It is.now near midnight. I will
leave this unfinished. and ifspared will finish at the end of the week. I
will lie downon the pallet beside MrsPhips for I may be wanted elsewheretomorrow;

Sept23rd. Before narrating. the events of the last three days.I will tell
you how I have disposed of Arthur. for as youhave
little ones of your own. I know your motherly heart willfeel an interest
in this little lonely child. now an orphan.—his father died on
Thursday.—and I have also found outthe reason the Doctor did not
come was, he was strickenwith the fever. before he could. get there: he
now liesvery low; MrsPhips. said she would remain in thehouse with the
child at least until she knew whatturn his father took. much of the
provision washers. she had brought it with her. as she couldnot
leave the city. MrCalhoon's brother and hiswife, had died the week
before. an uncle of theirsa resident of Memphis.
had left. on the outbreakof the epidemic. but there was no fuel in the
house. and no money.—I saw in the papers. notices.of Relief committees. I went to one. but did not.

succeed in getting fuel. These committees. are very good.they are kept up
the same as the Howards. by donations.and
are to supply the wants of the destitute. they issue rationsevery. day
mostly to colored people. because they cannot leavethe town now; and of
course must be fed.—The first timeI saw a crowd around one of
the Offices. I did not knowwhat it was for. I asked a colored woman. what
was the matter.? She said “they're drawing rations, hadn't youbetter
walk up and get yours.” I replied. “I did not need them”(but if I had not
joined the Howards I expect I should.)for
I could not buy anything to eat. I tried three times.this last week. to
buy bread. could not. The Howardsemploy a
baker; You must excuse this digres-sion. but I have to tell you of things
just as I seethem; I found a wood and coal yard. bought someof each,
had it taken up. stairs; I felt badly at leavingher; there was no one
living in the house except ahalf crazy man, down stairs. the rest were
dead orgone away; when I went back, a singular
sceneoccurred.—An old black woman. who had brought

the washed clothes. was clamorous. for her money.—there was a
half dollar on the bureau I had. toldMrs P to give it
to her; as I had money.—enough

for our immediate wants; The woman now returned. and insisted on taking
something out of the house for her pay; $1.50 . more. when she found I
hadtaken the best, to lay MrsCalhoon out in, She was furious: She turnedto me.
“You've took them Clothes. you've got to pay for them.”I heard a footstep
on the Stairs, told her I heard the Visitorand she would be arrested. She
started off, as she said, fora policeman: but I knew no policeman could
make mesettle up the estates of those I nursed; and the
footstepturned out to be the crazy man downstairs. no differenceSo
we got rid of her.—

I went to the Office: to draw some money. on my ticket,while there,
received a letter. from our friend MrsS. of Sewanee.what a comfort
in this my lonely exile to know therewas some one in this state who cared
enough for me to write to me.—I here met MrsHeckle from Houstonawaiting.
transportation to Holly Springs; where the fever
isbad; quite a number of nurses are here, from
Texas. also Doctors: one thing, most from
Texas are acclimated.The teachers are pretty
well represented. Mr and MrsProuden

from Jefferson. MrsRidley from Dallas
.—besides yoursister who is writing. Experienced nurses. are
needed.—this has been a fearful week.—The Doctors
haveblamed the nurses. Some of the Nurses have

cursed the Doctors; meantime, Death holds his grim Carni-val.Carnival The dead carts are piled higher than ever. and the bellof Elmwood cemetery. is tapping all day long: MrLangstaffthe indefatigable President of the Howards is sick: Everytime I call at the
office. new faces greet me. as fast as oneHoward is taken down, another takes his place.—

Whilst waiting. the Treasurer MrLonsdale. asked me to remain inthe Office until he
was at leisure. he thus told me. hiswife was not well that morning. when
he left home.and with voice broken with sobs. spoke of his son,
whohad died the week previous; I went with him tohis home; on the
way I met DrEasley. he still looks.well; and I hear has
worked hard. how long before his.labor is done! I called. at my last
place. handed MrsP.sufficient to take care of Arthur. for two weeks.—promised to look
for her when I returned: from the place I was going to; It was a
beautifulresidence on Bellvue
Avenue.—Mrs L's symtomssymptomswere the very worst; trembling with nervousness.—the room
was obliged to be kept so dark. we could scarcelysee our way about, She
was suffering. great pain.—inher head. Spoke of her children. as
I kneeled downby the low bedstead. I resolved to wait on her as I.

would have had anyone wait on my own precious motherin my
absence.—I rubbed her temples till she fell
asleep.—The Dr. came out. but had no hope.
of her; there was a younglady in the house. who assisted in caring for
her. So Mr L hadall the attentions. that love, or
money could obtain. Beforenight Mrs L brought another
nurse, a colored woman. thatwe might relieve. each other: In two hours.
she Mrs L took a fan-cyfancy to me. called me dear child. and seemed as if shecould not bear
to have me away from her; I waited on herfaithfully. and willingly. but
instead of better, shegrew worse; Towards morning. I felt the other nurse.
andwent down to the kitchen : to find. coffee or tea, ashad been
ordered but the servant had no very exaltedidea of nurses; and treated us
accordingly:. whenshe got the chance; there was no coffee or tea
there.I opened a door for fresh air. I felt faint. and pitched head
foremost out of doors; That wakenedme up pretty thoroughly; and scratched.
and bruised,I picked myself up; I was not badly hurt. halfinclined
to be angry, half inclined to laugh. I wentup stairs again to my patient;

In the day.—Mrs L. told me to go to rest. as
she was sure I was tired.

I laid down in the next room slept two hours; when I returned toher; she
held out both hands. exclaimed, My child I'm so glad to seeyou again; I
remained with her. and had my tea brought up stairsso that I could see
her. The Doctor told us; she would die thatnight; we all sat up. By
morning the silent, unwelcome.visitant was there: He lingered not beneath
the shadedavenue. he waited not to ask admission. he had beenthere a
few days before. again he mocks at science.puts love aside, wealth could
not buy bribe him.

for he is the great Reaper. sent by the Master.After death. I dressed her
in white. as I did. my own precious Mother.Two of the Howards came out and accompanied MrL to the cemetery. also one lady a neighbor. who
wasmuch afflicted at Mrs L's death. this was the
largestfuneral I saw in Memphis; as soon as it was over MrL returned to town to his
duties in the HowardOffice. those who
were devoted had no time to think ofself; The young lady also returned to
town. the othernurse and I remained. as there was an Irish girl
amaid of MrsLonsdale's who might take the fever.—We
fumigated the house. on Friday after the funeral—On Saturday
morning. Bridget took the fever.—I sent to
town for orders. got a man to bringan ambulance to take her to the
Infirmary..

It looked too lonesome to let her go alone. I got in withher. About a block
from the house, the horse broke downhad to wait until another one was
procured, the poor girlvomiting, terribly. When we got to the Market
StreetInfirmary. Bridget crossed herself and gave thanksthat the
church was opposite. its shadow would atleast fall on the house where she
was sick; Thisfaith was a comfort to her. I was glad she had
it.While in town this time I met MrsSaloi, formerly ofHouston. her
husband had just died of heart-disease: she is now alone in the city; She
had somedistance to walk. the man who drove me took her. roundto her
place; when I got back. to MrLonsdale'sLizzie the other
nurse was frightened. it wasso lonesome; with the superstition natural
toher race. She fancied the place was haunted. Sheis enciente and I
feared the consequences.—as she complained of violent
headache.—Yester-day she was so much worse. I got one of the
neighbors.to send to town. and tell MrLonsdale.—he is stayingin town with a
friend: He pro-cured a man to comeand take charge of his place; he thanked
us bothfor our attentions to his wife; MrL is an English-

man. resident of Memphis 30 years; He is a true
Christianand is now. striving to put aside his own sorrow. only to
serve others: as his place in the Howards
is an important one.His residence was 3 miles from town: and in previous
Epidem-ics had escaped. now the whole neighborhood was suf-ering:

The ambulance again brought us into town. and I hadtime to go to the
Infirmary to see Bridget; She has goodattentions. but
is very sick; On crossing the hall.some one called my name; I looked with
amaze-ment to see Mr Miller. formerly a teacher in
Houston.he was there when I left. Why are you
here I asked?“For the same reason you are, to help my fellowmen.”he
replied. “I run no risk I've had the fever” I said.He replied. I've lived
so long in yellow fever latitudeI hope to escape.—we chatted a
little while. over the news' from Houston. as he
left there some time afterI did. I told him where my hotel was. if he
neededmy friendship; we parted. Shall we ever meet again?

is a question that now arises every time I bid—goodday to any one
much more to one unacclimated: Why is itthat these young men will come.
when it is almostcertain death.? Some call it rash. but who censures.

him. or calls him rash. who volunteers to go upon the
battle—field. Then the drum beats, recruits are called for. here
are nogilded trappings. no martial music to stir the blood. A
trueheart felt sympathy has brought them: to contend on
thisbattlefield; For it is not a battle. the enemy is silent
butstrong, and subtile. he carries the his ensign is the blackflag. and he gives no
quarter. I felt sad as I passed outI thought of all who had come, hoping
to do so much. good. andhad. met, some with scorn instead of gratitude,
and a lowly. oft an unmarked grave; I have thought severaltimes that
God, always willing to save the sinner, tooksome of these men who came as
nurses, then in theirprime, just when the noblest attributes of their
natures.were called forth. called them at a time when theywere best
fitted to enter into the promised rest.—God is more merciful
than man. My letter is alreadytoo long. but each week seems to have a
greater burdenof sorrow than its predecessor—